


Morning Glory

by gemjam



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 10:14:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1547036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gemjam/pseuds/gemjam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The best kind of wake up call.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Glory

**Author's Note:**

  * For [twowittoowhoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twowittoowhoo/gifts).



Mark's curtains are thick and heavy, blocking out the light, but Jenson can see it start to creep in around the edges, giving a soft glow to the room. He knows that's not what's roused him though. He shifts against the sheets, seeking out Mark's body, throwing an arm over his waist and pulling himself close. Mark stirs slightly, muttering something, before burrowing his face into the pillow. Jenson smiles to himself, grazing his teeth over the back of Mark's neck before pressing his hard on against his naked arse. Well, if he's going to get woken up by an erection he may as well make use of it.

Mark makes a soft noise, pushing instinctively back against him, and Jenson thrusts his cock gently against the cleft of Mark's arse, making a mental note to gleefully tell Mark later just how desperate he is for his cock, even when he's not conscious. He rocks gently against him, Mark making a series of sleepy noises that become gradually more coherent before finally giving a grumpy little _harumph_.

"What time is it?" he asks.

"Don't know," Jenson responds, placing open-mouthed kisses over the flesh of Mark's neck.

Mark reaches out, straining against Jenson's grasp around his waist, tapping his phone into life. Jenson makes a disgruntled noise, shielding himself from the harsh light by burying himself between Mark's shoulder blades.

"I have to walk the dogs," Mark says.

Jenson lifts his head up. "Are you fucking serious?"

Mark tosses his phone back onto the nightstand where it glows for a further few seconds before blinking off again. Mark doesn't move and Jenson suspects he's going back to sleep. He rubs his nose against the hair at the nape of Mark's neck, skimming fingers over his stomach as he grinds his hips forward.

"Not in the mood, mate," Mark tells him.

"Give me a minute, you will be," Jenson responds, his hand dipping lower. Mark catches it with his own, giving a low growl. Jenson smiles against his neck. "You know that just turns me on more."

"Jense," Mark complains, trying to wriggle away, but that just rubs his arse more insistently against Jenson's cock. "Dogs need walking."

"They can wait," Jenson dismisses.

"They'll piss on the floor," Mark says, his voice losing any kind of protest as Jenson keeps rocking against him.

"They won't," Jenson insists. "I'll take them out. When I've finished blowing your mind."

Mark snorts a laugh but the tension has eased from his body and he's leaning back against Jenson. Jenson kisses down his neck, sucking on the point where it meets his shoulder, his hand sliding slowly downwards again. Mark murmurs a sleepy noise as Jenson's fingers push into his pubic hair, his hips shifting restlessly. As Jenson's fingers wrap around his half-hard cock he gives a soft moan, tilting his head back with a shuddery little exhale.

Jenson sucks on the side of his neck, stroking his cock gently, feeling it respond so easily to his touch. Mark makes a series of noises, little hums and sighs, admissions he'd never allow if he were fully awake. Jenson can't help smiling against him, savouring every detail, loving the way Mark presses subtly back as Jenson rubs against him.

"Can you stop drooling on me?" Mark complains, shrugging his shoulder to try and dislodge Jenson's mouth.

Jenson starts to laugh against him, his body convulsing with it, and he can't concentrate on what he's doing. "You're a grumpy bastard," he says, licking wetly over Mark's neck. Mark makes a disgruntled noise, trying to shove him off.

Jenson retreats for a moment until Mark stills, shuffling against the pillow to get comfortable, looking like he's getting ready to fall back asleep. Jenson looks down at him fondly before leaning forward and kissing along Mark's jaw; dry, closed mouth kisses. Mark makes a noise that could be pleased or irritated but he doesn't move so Jenson continues, wrapping his hand more firmly around Mark's cock, now undeniably hard, and stroking him with purpose.

Mark rocks into his hand, Jenson kissing the corner of his mouth and trying to coax him into a kiss. After some gentle persuasion Mark tilts his head and allows himself to be kissed, lips moving sleepily against Jenson's before he parts them with a moan, flicking his tongue out once in asking and then waiting for Jenson to reciprocate, to take control.

The kiss is deep and unrushed and Jenson loves the easy intimacy of it. There's no impatience, no agenda; everything feels so relaxed, their tongues sliding together, their bodies shifting against one another, and Jenson just enjoys the sensuality of it, their inhibitions still stuck somewhere in sleep.

Eventually Mark pulls away, stretching his neck before resting his head back on his pillow. Jenson squeezes his cock.

"Pass me the lube."

"No," Mark says gruffly.

"Fucking do it," Jenson responds, giving him a little shove.

He can see Mark roll his eyes, even through the cover of his eyelids. He reaches out, not looking at what he's doing as he opens the drawer by the bed, fishing out the lube and passing it back over his shoulder to Jenson.

"Thank you," Jenson says, placing a kiss on his shoulder.

He reaches down, fingers trailing the back of Mark's thigh to his knee, grabbing hold and bending it upwards and guiding it up towards his chest. His body shifts so that he's half on his front, his arse presented beautifully up to Jenson. The light is dim enough that the view isn't gratuitous but Jenson certainly appreciates it anyway. He flips the lube open, dribbling some onto his fingers.

Mark hums as he's breached by the tip of Jenson's finger, hips shuffling as he gets himself more comfortable. Jenson moves slowly, not feeling the usual urgency he gets when they do this, when he's so close to getting what he wants, burying himself in that perfect heat. He likes this languid pace, likes the way Mark's body responds so minutely, so honestly. There's hardly any resistance from Mark, his body open and relaxed, but Jenson still takes his time, draws it out, enjoying every tiny reaction he gets along the way. By the time Jenson has two fingers inside him, Mark has reached down to touch himself, long, slow pulls of his cock, his breathing heavy and punctuated with sighs that he'll doubtless deny he's even capable of making when he has his wits about him later.

Jenson gently pulls his fingers out to a murmured objection from Mark, reaching for the lube to slick up his dick. It's the first time he's actually touched himself since he woke up and he's flooded with sudden arousal that cuts through his previous sleepy want. He groans, jerking himself indulgently, the wet slide of his hand so easy to get lost in. He wonders briefly if Mark would mind if he just wanked off over him, if he's really that interested in the sex at all, but when Mark shifts against the mattress, all prepped and ready for him, Jenson thinks it would be a waste to pass it up.

He moves in close behind Mark, rubbing the tip of his cock over Mark's entrance as a tease, and Mark just growls at him, fingers tightening in the sheets. Jenson smiles to himself, adjusting his position before pushing inside. It feels so good, so indescribably amazing, all that heat gripping him, pulling him in. He moans, arching his back into it, his hand going to Mark's hip and pressing him further into the mattress, his whole body following the movement to pin him down.

Mark makes a noise that sounds slightly disgruntled and Jenson can't help moving, rocking his hips deep inside Mark's body, and he soon feels Mark melt into the mattress of his own accord, angling his arse up in offering. Jenson closes his eyes, presses his forehead against the skin at the back of Mark's neck, damp with sweat. He circles his hips and then starts to pull away, pushing oh so slowly back into Mark and listening to the whine he makes, clenching around Jenson's cock. Jenson makes an appreciative noise in return, not trying to hide the shudder that goes through his body, and then he starts to move for real, strong thrusts that rock Mark's body against the bed.

Mark lifts his knee closer to his chest, opening himself up further, and Jenson can't help but take advantage, pushing himself deeper, his hips gaining momentum. Mark is still touching himself, wanking himself off, a series of moans falling from his lips as he presses back against Jenson. Jenson is quite happy to let him take care of himself, all but curling himself around Mark's body in a bid to get closer. He loves how unpretentious this is, just pure pleasure seeking, neither feeling the need to put up a front or gain the upper hand.

Jenson slides his hand from Mark's hip to wrap around his waist, forcing their bodies together, and it's too hot with this and the duvet, sweat sliding over them, but Jenson can't let go. Instead he ineffectually kicks at the covers, getting them halfway off and then abandoning his attempt when it upsets his rhythm, needing to focus on nothing but Mark, on this. He grinds against Mark, feeling the utter give in the body beneath him, his hips fluid, so receptive to whatever movement Jenson makes. It's too much really, such surrender, and with nothing to fight against he knows there's no way he can draw it out.

He thinks about sliding a hand down, helping Mark out, but he seems to be doing a pretty good job of taking care of himself, especially if the noises he's making are anything to go by, so Jenson decides not to interfere. He presses himself deeply into Mark, gripping him tightly across the stomach, managing to get a couple more stuttering hip movements in before he's coming, letting it wash over his body in a satisfying wave, his face pressed between Mark's shoulder blades as he breathes him in. He bares his teeth with the distant thought of claiming him but it all shudders away from him, feeling weak as he jerks his hips forward one last time.

Mark whines in his arms, throwing his head back and bracketing Jenson with the curve of his spine as he comes. His arm moves erratically, seeming to shake the whole bed, and then he stills and everything is quiet and calm, just the sounds of their ragged breath, and Jenson feels heavy, weighed down by every molecule of air in the stillness of the room.

Mark moves first, curling himself forwards, giving Jenson a little room to manoeuvre. He lifts his head, trailing his lips over Mark's back before nibbling at the little bumps of his spine. Mark makes the most delicious noise, shivering, and Jenson can't help but smile rather smugly. He moves his mouth up, sucking on his neck.

"Stop slobbering," Mark complains, shrugging his shoulder irritably.

Jenson laughs. "Fine." He places a kiss there instead and then shifts back but Mark grabs his arm to stop him retreating.

"Where you going?"

"Dogs need walking," Jenson reminds him.

"They'd eat you," Mark dismisses. "Stay here."

Jenson grins, settling back in to snuggle up against Mark. "Soppy bastard."

"Just saving you from a mauling," Mark responds.

Jenson doesn't complain, closing his eyes and squeezing Mark's waist. Mark makes a contented noise, shuffling back against him. Jenson listens to their breaths as they even out, fall into sync, their chests rising and falling together, and he feels a tingly kind of afterglow he hasn't indulged in for a long time. He thinks that Mark has fallen asleep when he suddenly reaches a hand out, groping around for something.

"Doona," he mutters.

"Duvet," Jenson corrects, reaching down to grab it for him. "You're in England. Speak fucking English."

Mark mutters something that sounds distinctly uncomplimentary but then Jenson wraps the covers back over them and he settles down, resting heavily back against Jenson. It's warm and comfortable and Jenson feels the irresistible tug of slumber threatening to pull him back under. As he shifts against Mark he can already tell he's going to get hell for the mess they'll be waking up in. He yawns, a smile coming over his lips as he decides it was definitely worth it.


End file.
